A Green Eyed Machine?
by AndyTGD
Summary: This story takes place between "Alpine Fields" and "Earthlings Welcome Here". As John and Riley's relationship moves up a gear, Cameron finds herself wrestling with powerful desires. But is there really such a thing as a jealous machine?


**A Green-Eyed Machine? **

Essentially, this story takes place between Episodes 12 (Alpine Fields) and 13 (Earthlings Welcome Here) of Season 2. It's pretty much AU, based on the idea that Riley doesn't crack with her foster parents and get thrown out onto the streets.

I would like to thank Talli.B, Blazar and m1919 for their help in beta-reading this chapter and offering helpful suggestions. Their continued help and support have proven invaluable. Thanks folks. :)

* * *

**Chapter One: Hunting the Hunter.  
**

It was back. Almost six months after their first encounter with the T-888, which had attempted to murder them at their cabin, the Fields family had been ambushed outside their hotel. Their eldest daughter, Lauren, watched in horror as her heavily pregnant mother suffered a gun shot wound to the lung. It was only through the brave sacrifice of her father that Lauren had managed to escape with her mother under a hail of gunfire.

As she lay bleeding on a workbench at their temporary shelter, Anne Fields had confessed to her daughter that she had been responsible for revealing their location to the machine. Lauren had not been completely surprised by the revelation. Her mother had been finding it hard to adjust to life on the run and her affair with family friend, Roger Shafer, had been well known to her since the incident at Alpine.

The night before, her mother had been unable to resist the urge to phone him one last time; partly out of guilt for having drawn him into their troubles and partly to confirm that he was all right. But when she had made that fateful call, it was not Roger who had answered. Aware of the possibility that the Fields would attempt to make contact with Shafer, the T-888 had terminated him. Mimicking the dead man's voice, it had been able to persuade her to reveal their location.

With no one else to turn to, Lauren contacted Sarah Connor and following their request for help, she had sent Derek Reese to assist the family; who were now lying low in a warehouse north of Chinatown, between LA and Pasadena. Elsewhere in the city, Cameron and Sarah were in the process of hunting down the machine before it could strike again.

* * *

Thus far, their search had proven fruitless. Three hours of searching what Cameron had deemed to be the most likely locations for intercepting the Terminator had turned up nothing. Suddenly, they noticed a squad car at the side of the road, surrounded by bystanders. Sarah pulled the jeep over to the sidewalk and jumped out; Cameron followed suit. She jostled her way through the crowd to the vehicle. The windscreen had been shattered and the hood was riddled with bullet holes, as was the interior. Nearly six meters away, a distraught-looking group of people were huddled around the body of one of the police officers, as it lay bleeding at the side of the road. Several people were frantically talking to the emergency services on their cellphones. The whole scene reminded her of a familiar nightmare.

Cameron tapped Sarah on the shoulder, "The bullet damage is consistent with a 9mm Uzi submachine gun. The vehicle's occupant is deceased."

"Right, that's interesting, but it doesn't tell us who killed them or where it went."

"If the perpetrator was the Triple Eight, it tells us what we are up against. He is heavily armed."

Sarah asked the man nearest her, "Did anyone see what happened here?"

"I didn't, but she did." He pointed at a young woman, perhaps in her mid twenties, leaning against the wall of the building opposite. Sarah was about to move, when Cameron grabbed her by the arm.

"Perhaps it would be better if I questioned her."

"I suppose that's one of the things you were built for, right?"

"Exactly."

Without waiting for a reply, she proceeded across the road. As she approached her, the woman made no reaction; she looked visibly traumatized by the experience. Sarah stood out of the way, but listened intently to what was being said.

"Excuse me, did you see what happened here?"

Cameron studied the woman, who looked at her with a vacant expression; almost as if she was looking through her, rather than at her.

"Yes, I did...uh? Who are you exactly?"

She produced a police badge from her hip pocket. "Officer Stephanie Grant, L.A.P.D. We just need to ask you a few questions about what happened here miss...?"

The young woman quickly studied the badge and then settled her gaze on the brunette's face; straining to pay attention. "Uh, Blair. Amber Blair. Sorry, officer, my head is all over the place at the minute. What do you need to know?"

"Did you see who did this?"

"Yeah...big guy. He had grey hair, it was slicked back. Maybe in his late forties? It's hard to say; I was standing pretty far back. They tried to pull him over for speeding, I think. When one of the officers approached the car he shot him with a machine gun. Then he got out and shot the other officer in the car before driving off. It was horrific..."

"Did you get a look at the vehicle registration plate? Can you tell us anything else about the vehicle? Make or Model?"

"It all happened so quickly, I'm sorry. I was trying to keep a low profile, so I didn't get a good look at the license plate. I do remember that he was driving a blue pickup though."

"I think that's all we need to know for now, thank you for your time."

"Aren't you going to ask me for my details?"

"No, my colleagues will be along shortly to take down your statement."

The girl looked satisfied with her answer, she had been through enough already. Hassling a police officer was the last thing she wanted to do. As they walked back towards the jeep, Sarah glanced at Cameron disapprovingly.

"I'm not going to ask how you got that badge."

"I kept it from the raid on the Central Los Angeles Police Department. When you sent me to procure Vic's hand. I also kept the uniform, I thought they might be useful sometime."

They got back into the car and continued along the street. Sarah glanced sideways at the cyborg, whose arm was dangling out of the passenger window. "Do you think that the Triple Eight was definitely responsible for that?"

"It would seem likely, given the woman's description."

"One thing bugs me though, why would it kill them for issuing a speeding ticket?"

"It didn't. We are infiltrators. To terminate law enforcement officers without provocation would prove counter-productive. They must have found the weapons and provoked it into killing them."

Sarah drove for a mile without talking. She was trying to estimate how much damage this thing could cause in an armed chase. Already it had racked up an unacceptably high body count, when one included the people who had been caught in the crossfire at the hotel and now this.

"We can't keep chasing this thing; too many people will get hurt. We've got to lure it into an ambush on our own terms. Hand me the phone."

She held the wheel with one hand, whilst dialing Reese's number with the other. "Derek? Did you find out how it found them? Roger Shafer. Right, do you have a cell number? Be quick. Okay, I'll remember that. I'll call back later. Bye."

Cameron took back the offered phone; she had already guessed what Sarah had in mind and she was not convinced that the plan was fool-proof. "You want me to lure it into a confrontation by posing as Lauren Fields. It will not recognize the phone number; it will be suspicious."

Sarah smiled, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. "It's clutching at straws - it'll bite at any kind of a lead. Remember when we caught you? Did it not cross your mind that a trail of blood leading to a water-filled font was suspicious?"

"I was curious."

"Exactly, that's what I'm counting on."

* * *

Locating a suitably abandoned building in a quiet part of town, Sarah parked in a discreet location, where the machine would be sure not to see their car. It almost certainly had its details on record following their encounter at the Fields' retreat. They proceeded on foot into the building and after a brief examination, considered it to be fit for their purpose. The building had probably been used at some point as a hotel, judging from the old signage above the entrance, on which the name 'Bonne Nuit' was printed in large, untidy letters. Directly through the main entrance, there was a spacious foyer which would prove perfect as an ambush location. The concrete support columns could pose a problem, but considering the alternative it was perfect. Cameron picked up the cell and dialed Roger Shafer's number. She held the phone to her ear and spoke in a perfect imitation of Lauren Fields' voice, edged with traces of panic and fear.

"Hello? Roger?"

"...Lauren? Is everything okay?"

"We're in trouble. Mom's been shot and it's still after us. Can you help?"

"Slow down, slow down. Who is after you?"

"The cyborg from Alpine. I think it's following us."

"Where are you?"

"An abandoned hotel. I've set up a place for mom in the lobby. I'll text you the directions."

"Don't worry, I'll be on my way once I receive that message. Just sit tight." The phone abruptly hung up.

Sarah nodded her satisfaction, "Good work. Now all we have to do is wait for this thing to show up. You do understand what we have to do here?"

Cameron quickly sent the text message and turned back to Sarah. "Yes. Contain the Triple Eight here and terminate it without drawing attention to ourselves. If it attempts to flee, I am to pursue it and bring it back. There are to be no civilian or law enforcement casualties."

"Right, then we need to burn it here. I think the neighbors would start to get suspicious if we were dragging a body out of the car and burning it in broad daylight."

"Yes, that would appear to be sensible. We need someone to watch the rear exits of the building. There is a chance that it will attempt to evade destruction. You should stay out back and watch for trouble, it will be safer there."

Sarah paced towards the door, glancing back briefly, "If this thing bites the bait, nowhere near this place will be safe."

* * *

Almost thirty minutes later, the Triple Eight burst through the main entrance of the building, a 9mm Uzi in one hand and a Jericho 941 pistol in the other. It slowly paced towards the center of the empty lobby, whilst carefully scanning it's surroundings for any sign of the girl and her mother. The room was silent, except for the heavy steps of the man's boots, which echoed off the bare plaster walls.

"Lauren? Where are you?" it called out in the dead man's voice, listening intently for any reply or noise which would give away the family's position.

"I'm right here." Cameron's voice came from behind the cyborg. As it turned to confirm the identity of its target, she fired twice with her Remington 870p shotgun, its depleted uranium core rounds shattered the machine's jaw; its heavy body staggering backwards from the force of the impact.

The Triple Eight corrected its stance, took aim with the Uzi and emptied the clip in her direction. She threw herself behind a nearby support column to avoid taking the brunt of the fire. When she heard the click of the empty magazine and the clatter of metal, she emerged and brought the Remington up to return fire; only to find that the machine had gone and in its place lay the empty Uzi. Had it escaped? When faced with overwhelmingly negative odds of survival, a machine would usually opt to flee and make repairs. She calculated that there was a 63 percent probability that the Terminator had decided to evade destruction by disengaging from combat. She scanned the foyer for possible escape routes and identified an open door in the upper right corner of the room. She knew from her preparation that this corridor led to the remains of a kitchen and a rear exit. She strode quickly towards it. Suddenly, from behind one of the left side pillars, it lunged at her; hurling her to the ground and knocking the Remington from her grasp.

Pinning her down, the jawless abomination grabbed her by the neck and smashed her head repeatedly off the concrete floor. Barely managing to grasp its heavy frame with both hands, she redirected all remaining power to the required actuators and threw it several meters across the room. It tumbled to a halt, like a rag doll and then slowly picked itself up.

Cameron did likewise, quickly noticing that the bludgeoning to her head had somehow damaged the circuit which handled shock dampening, a feature which was designed to protect her sensitive CPU from the shock of impact damage. It occurred to her that she needed to end this fight quickly; her small frame was not designed to put up with this amount of punishment . A quick scan located the Remington; it had fallen beside the kitchen access door. She sprinted towards it, only to be tackled to the floor a meter short of her goal. The machine clutched at her ankles and pulled her sharply away from the shotgun, sending her tumbling across the dusty floor towards the entrance. Now the cyborg was between her and the weapon. She picked herself up and walked determinedly towards the crouching figure.

As she approached, the terminator drew its pistol and began firing rapidly at her torso; she didn't even flinch as the bullets struck her. Failing to stop her momentum, it dropped the empty weapon and grabbed Cameron by the shoulders, but she rapidly changed her stance and retaliated with a counter-grip; forcing the cyborg hard against the plaster wall. The machine quickly recovered from the impact and with the speed of a rattlesnake, it caught her by the neck and threw her into a concrete support at the other side of the room. The left side of her head violently hit the concrete and she dropped to the floor.

Cameron tilted her head in the machine's direction. The impact had caused damage to her left photoreceptor and through a blur of visual distortion, she could see the terminator's silhouette slowly limping towards her. She disabled the faulty component and began to move, only to find that numerous warning messages had appeared in her HUD. Suddenly, her entire body collapsed unresponsively to the floor, as if a puppeteer had suddenly let go of her strings.

ANALYZING DAMAGE

WARNING: ADAPTIVE SHOCK DAMPENING CONTROL FAILURE

WARNING: LEFT PHOTORECEPTOR DAMAGED... VISION IMPAIRED

WARNING: PRIMARY MOTOR CONTROL FAILURE... ACTUATORS IMMOBILIZED

RE-ROUTING TO SECONDARY MOTOR CONTROL... 10... 9... 8... 7...

All she could do was stare, as the machine stopped and raised its heavy boot above her head. As it prepared to deliver the killing blow, the Remington barked twice and the machine crumpled backwards in a heap. Sarah walked over to the machine, placed the barrel against its smashed head and pulled the trigger a third time, shattering the remains of its fragile internal components. She looked down at Cameron, who was beginning to regain control of her body.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at her hand, clenching and releasing it, as if to test the delicate mechanisms within. "Yes, thank you for asking. I thought I told you to stay out of the way; you unnecessarily put your life in danger."

She prodded the remains of the Terminator with her boot. She had a thin smile on her face. "The day I take orders from metal, I'll be skating in hell. No offense."

Cameron looked back blankly, "None taken."

* * *

Ten minutes later, the body of the cyborg was crumpling under a violent spray of fire. The thermite quickly melted the remains, as Sarah talked on the phone with Derek Reese. Cameron was delicately applying makeup to the scrapes and bruises which she had received at the machine's hands. She noted that the external damage could have been far more serious, given the abnormal strength of the Fields Terminator. The internal damage appeared to be more serious, but there was no way of knowing how serious the damage had been without a full diagnostic test. That test, important as it was, could wait until later. As long as she could still pass for human, that was all that mattered. The day she ceased to look human would be the day she was rendered almost useless as an infiltrator and her ability to protect John would be severely compromised. Her usefulness expired, she would probably be destroyed. She tried not to dwell on the possibility of that eventuality.

Once they were satisfied that the remains had been completely destroyed, they left the building and began walking back towards the jeep. Sarah finished the call and slipped the phone back into her pocket, "Derek says the baby is fine."

"And the mother?"

"It doesn't sound like she made it, there was probably too much damage." She paused to think. It seemed unusual that she should be interested in what happened to an individual's life. A machine didn't usually care about a random person's life and death; unless that person's existence was in some way important to their mission priorities. "Why do you ask?"

"A parental figure is important in a child's development."

"Well, at least she has her big sister to look after her. She's sensible and resourceful, I'm sure she will grow into the role."

Cameron looked at her seriously, frowning slightly, "You put yourself in danger to protect me, consequently John could have lost his parental figure. You should be more careful."

Sarah stared at her in disbelief and then exploded, "I killed that son of a bitch to protect the Fields, John and everyone else who will one day rely on that girl for their survival. I did _not_ kill it to protect you. So don't lecture me on being a parent; every single thing I do is to protect my son."

She got into the driver's seat and angrily slammed the door. "Get in, we're done here. I'm going to leave you back at the safe house. You can deliver the news to John. Think you can handle that?"

"I can handle that. Where are you going after you drop me off?"

"I have to check something out. I'll be on my cell."

"It's about the three dots again, isn't it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Yes. I would."

Without warning, Cameron snatched the keys from the ignition before Sarah could get a chance to start the engine. She tried to prevent her, but her reaction times were far slower than the machine's.

"Excuse me, I'm driving."

"Based on your current state of mind, there is a high probability that we will have another traffic accident."

"You don't trust my driving?"

"Nobody trusts your driving." she replied flatly. This was a comment which she would come to regret. She later noted that this was part of what humans call 'learning through experience'.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, they arrived back at the safe house. As planned, Sarah had left Cameron at the foot of the driveway and then continued down the road. As the car receded into the distance, she recalled how Sarah had reacted with particular anger at the subject of her driving. So much so, that she had quickly relented and handed her the keys. As she entered the house, she was met by silence; with the exception of John's voice quietly murmuring in the background. She ascertained that it was coming from his bedroom and quickly ascended the staircase. When she was two feet away from the door, she paused and listened to the conversation.

"Well...a black shirt and jeans...what about you?"

John sounded amused, even flirtatious. She concluded that it was a phone conversation with Riley Dawson. As for the subject of the conversation, she had assumed that he was discussing what he should wear, perhaps for a party; consequently she decided that caution would not be necessary. She abruptly opened the door and took a step into the room.

"John."

"Wha...!"

John scrambled to sitting bolt upright within a fraction of a second of the door opening. She observed that he was on the bed, his back propped up against the headboard, with the phone in his left hand. He was wearing a black top with jeans. _Curious_.

"Cam, did you ever think about knocking before you enter a room?"

She took a step backwards and rapped twice on the door.

"May I come in?"

He rolled his eyes. "Sorry Riley, something's come up...Yep, family matters...Talk later." He hung up the phone and set it aside.

"That was Riley." It was posed as a statement, not a question. Either way, John chose to ignore it.

"I wasn't expecting you both back so early. Where's mom?"

"Sarah is not here, she says that there is something which she needs to check out. She sent me to inform you that the T-888, which attempted to terminate the Fields, is destroyed."

"Is that _all_ she sent you for?"

She strolled casually to the side of the bed and sat down beside him, at the edge of the mattress with her hands clasping her knees. Her petite frame pressed softly against him.

"If you are inferring that she sent me to check up on you, the answer is no." She reached out and touched his neck near the spot where Riley's lipstick had been two nights before. He flinched slightly at the gentle touch. She smiled warmly to better disguise her intentions. "You missed a spot. Its gone now."

Analysis: pulse and respiration rates elevated above average levels.

Normally, this evidence would prove to be insufficient to draw a firm conclusion as to what John had been doing; however when coupled with what she had seen of his reactions and the results of an infra-red scan, she had determined that her suspicions were correct. She logged her findings and noted, with concern, that his relationship with Riley was getting quite serious.

"How is Riley?"

"Since when did you start caring about Riley's welfare?"

"Since things have changed."

"If you're talking about the other night...me and Riley. What happened - if _anything_ happened - is none of your business."

"But it is my business, John. It is my purpose to protect you; sometimes from yourself. Riley complicates things."

"Look, I don't need protecting. All this protection is killing me. What I really need right now, is to be left alone to enjoy what little remains of a normal teenage life."

"You will never have a normal life. You're not supposed to be like average people."

"So everybody keeps reminding me. Tell me, is your Future John happy? You do understand the concept of happiness, right? Even though you _say_ you can't feel it."

"Future John does not have time to concern himself with the pursuit of happiness."

"Thank you for reinforcing my point. Look at it from my point of view: if I'm going to be miserable for the rest of my life, then maybe I should break the rules once in a while and enjoy what little happiness I find."

She tilted her head inquisitively, holding his gaze. "Does Riley make you happy?"

He thought for a second, staring up at the luminous 'stars' on his ceiling. He recalled the night he had spent with Riley, looking up at the childish decorations. It had been pure, blissful escapism; he finally had the freedom to talk and joke with someone about normal things. And doing normal things which normal teenagers do. It was a million miles away from the life he had been living for the past sixteen years. He looked back at her and answered truthfully. "Yes. Yes she does."

"John? Do _I_ make you happy?" The big brown eyes looked into his, searching for answers. For some reason, it was almost as if his heart had skipped a beat when she had asked. He couldn't understand why it would matter to her.

He smirked, dodging the question slightly, "Sure. When you knock before entering and when you don't try to kill me. Speaking of which, how much ammunition did you burn through today? I think we're getting low on those depleted uranium rounds."

"I probably should go to the weapons stash and take stock of how many rounds of ammunition we have left."

She got to her feet and walked as far as the doorway before she paused and looked over her shoulder.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Your fly is open."

He gave her an embarrassed glance and fumbled with the zipper. As she was leaving, out of the corner of her vision, she noticed him picking up the phone. She walked down the flight of stairs and made her way into the kitchen, where she picked up the downstairs receiver and listened intently to the two animated voices.

"...I'm sure she's only looking out for you."

"Well, I wish she wouldn't. Part of me wishes she would just lighten up a bit."

"Well, count yourself lucky that you have me around to be the life and soul of the party."

"So...do you want to come over tonight?"

"I would, but my foster parents have me under lock and key after what happened at Mike's party. I don't know how it got back to them so fast."

"So, where does that leave us for this evening?"

"Maybe I'll call you later? I'm sure we can find other ways of making some evening entertainment..."

"Speaking of which, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

There was a brief laugh at the other end of the line, as she continued in the most seductive voice she could muster.

"I believe I was asking you what you were wearing..."

As the conversation continued, something deep within Cameron's programming began to surface. It was something which she had desperately tried to contain for months. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, it had always been a fundamental part of her being. It lurked in the depths of her consciousness, begging to be released. She identified it as the need to terminate human life. However, this time, it was not John's life which she desired to end. It was Riley's.

* * *

Umm, I'd like to take the opportunity to apologize to Sarah fans out there, since she hasn't really had much of a role in this chapter. But I'll try and make it up to you guys later. As always, I'm still learning, so I appreciate tons of feedback. It also makes the work a lot easier, to know what works and what doesn't. So, please review if you have a spare moment. Thanks! ^^


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